Now is the time for everything.

Under the sun in Arizona

Under the moon in Siberia

Snow and sand are twins

and the wastelands drive

them over everything. 


The time for everything is now.

As one gnaws the leg, 

the other eats the dust

and dust settles on the 

gnawed leg, a human limb

in the slum.


Now is the time for anything.

The funerals you drive by 

daily are waiting for your 

attendance. You play 

in traffic and tip over

alleyways. The birds 

sing happily under the

sun, as you decide upon

anything, everything,

chaos, choices. 


Today is a day for all waking to their time-waste riding ceiling fans and hitting them with 

the wind-tails of everything.



All at once, everything happens

all the time, everywhere:

Slumber, starvation, 

both inescapable

in particular situations,

misused verbs and love

verbatim always 

and forever,
traffic deaths and 

jumps off life precipices --

just the same, just the same.


elementary gardens of rebellion,

first blooms, and a sip of poison,

rogue intentions, and a heart full 

of cold gold - what's that?

just the same, just the same.


Fire and independence,

discovery and secrets,

broken jaws and spilled truths,

light shining where it cannot rule --

past lies become present truths.


Everyday, everywhere

lightning strikes, here and there.


It happens, perhaps in thought

or deed, 

it happens so ubiquitously 

everywhere, in all the forests' 

leaves and shadow-play on jungle palms, 

it happens,

as time watches and embraces

our collective everything.


There is a time for breathing,

that is here -

now, there is a time,

for choice of anything.  

Published by Leah Fleurimond